A/N: Hey guys! So this is my second fanfiction ever. It's a relatively new idea. It's inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script. It's one of my favorite songs ever. It has a lot of inspirational lyrics and a story that many can relate to. I advise you to listen to the song before you read this story. It will help you appreciate what's happening with the characters and what they're going through. I hope you enjoy!

-SneekAttack101

All her life she has seen

All the meanest side of me

They took away the prophet's dream

For a prophet on the street

Now she's stronger than you know

A heart of steel starts to grow

Clary

I open the door to my room, step inside, then slam it shut. I collapse onto my bed. I lay there for a second, my eyes closed and my mind running. After a few minutes, I stand up and start to take my bartender uniform off. I grab the tips from my pocket and walk over to the locked cabinet in my room. I unlock the door and stare at the money inside. It's a lot, but not enough. I lay down the money I earned tonight and close the cabinet once again.

I look around my room. My gaze falls on a picture of my family. Well, if you can even call them that. We don't get along. On little bit. My parents never give me anything. I always have to earn it or buy it myself. They ignore me and pretend like I don't exist. I don't think I've exchanged words with them in over three months.

I look at the boy next to my parents in the picture. Tall and muscular with a handsome face and white-blonde hair. Pale skin and dark eyes make him even more attractive. Of course, this is according to other girls in my school. Not me. Me having thoughts about my brother like that would be disgusting.

For as long as I could remember, Jonathon has been the favorite child. Always being idolized and talked up by my parents. But all Jon does is get in fights, hook up with girls, and do extremely poorly in school. Some how my parents see him as "The Chosen One." Giving him whatever he wants whenever he wants, leaving me in the dust.

Jon is absolutely horrible to me. He also neglects me, but he does talk to me. He terrorizes me and always tells me that I'm nothing. He's probably right. Jon even started hitting me at one point.

When my parents found out that my brother was too stupid and violent to get into any college with any financial aid, they used all of the money they had saved up for us on him. We were each supposed to get half of the money in the account, but it was all spent on him.

At least when he went to college the abuse stopped.

So I've been working for the past three years as a bartender at a club to try to get into my dream art school. I'm seventeen with no friends, no family, and as of right now, no future.

I feel tears start to form in my eyes. I change out of my uniform completely, sniffling while doing so. When I jump into the shower, the tears I've been holding come out like a waterfall. I sob as the warm water cascades all over my body. Each time I try to stop the tears, a new round begins.

When I'm done crying, I turn off the water and exit the bathroom. I quickly change into my sleep clothes. Then I walk to my window and open it, letting the summer breeze enter my room. Then I slowly walk over to my bed, slip under the covers, and let sleep find me.

All his life he's been told

He'll be nothing when he's old

All the kicks and all the blows

He won't ever let it show

'Cause he's stronger than you know

A heart of steel starts to grow

Jace

I deliver the final blow, knocking the guy out for good. I walk over to the hot women overseeing the fight, and she hands me the cash I earned. I walk around her, slapping the girl's ass in the process.

I've been making my money by underground fighting for the last six years. Now I'm twenty one, and still participating. Not only is it good money, but I love the boost of adrenaline it gives me whenever I'm in a fight.

I wipe some blood from my forehead. I suspect my eyebrow split open. Pain doesn't bother me anymore. After having a father that beat you for most of your life, all pain is numb.

I count my earnings as I walk out of the club. Two hundred and sixteen dollars. Not bad for a Tuesday night.

I walk around the city, finally making it back to my apartment. It's nothing fancy, but it isn't horrible either. It's all I need: somewhere to eat, somewhere to sleep, different places to hook up with a girl. The three things I need to be comfortable.

As soon as I enter the apartment, I make my way over to the fridge. I grab a beer and then flop down on the nearby couch.

I sigh and stare at the wall, taking a swig of my beer. My favorite bar got shut down for drug deals a few nights ago. I'm going to need to find a new place to go after kicking ass every night. Plus I need a new selection of females to work with.

I'm not too screwed up. I went to college, but I did drop out after a few years. I don't do drugs, only get drunk once in a while. I'm streetwise, smart, and independent. I blame my messed up childhood for my lifestyle now.

I finish off my alcoholic beverage in no time. I go to the bathroom to clean up any minor injuries I received during any of the fights tonight. Then I enter my bedroom, strip down to my boxers, and crash on the bed. I stare at the ceiling until I feel myself drift off into sleep.

A/N: I know, I know. Really short. Sorry about that. But I needed to set up the story. So what do you think? Want me to continue? Please let me know, because I really don't want to waste my time. Abilities is a project that's been making me work hard.

Thank you for checking this story out, and bothering to read the author's note. Hopefully you read the one at the beginning, too.

-SneekAttack101